


Voice of Our People

by Some_Writer



Series: Turian Machinations of Spectres and Primarchs [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Destroy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Writer/pseuds/Some_Writer
Summary: Summary:The casualties of war are often unfathomable, but pity not the dead. For it is the living that must carry on with their wounds, tossing and turning in their beds with only ghosts for company. And it certainly doesn't help when sleep is interrupted by insufferable drones.Prompt:What are they up to post-ME? Are they working on that book together? How is Javik adjusting to peacetime?Fluff, angst, and/or smut (as long as it's all consensual) are all welcome!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> **Disclaimers:**  
>  1) Beta'd by both [shretl (Girlundone)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/girlundone/pseuds/shretl) and [Marie_Fanwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter).  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the Loyalty Mission gift I originally worked on for Inquisitor_tohru. I had wanted to write something about Liara and Javik for quite some time, even hinted at it in my series, but never thought I'd actually get around to writing it until I got paired with her and saw her prompt. I technically consider it part of my series but it reads completely separately. As long you've played Mass Effect 3, this story will be easy to follow. :)
> 
> Apologies for the wait, Inquisitor_tohru!

Watching the primitives scramble to gain their bearings was just as sad as it was entertaining.

In his haste, and at the order of the ‘Spectre’ human, the pilot managed to get the ship marooned on some backwater world. The Commander had been left behind, causing an undeniable rift in the crew; silent yet impossible to ignore. The remaining male Spectre regretted giving the order- though he hid that fact from all those that he could- and the pilot was remorseful for following said order. The turian quietly resented that it had been given, while the quarian and the large human tried- failingly-to assuage the tension with humor. The asari glued herself to the many screens she watched to weave her web, and Javik... washed his hands.

He scrubbed away the residue of the ship, the jungle, and the rampant emotions of all those around him. They were clogging his mind, his _senses_ , making it hard to think with their constant whining.

Javik often felt the need to escape the ever-present undercurrent that they all hid so poorly, and he found it in the sunlight and fresh air just outside their vessel. So simple, but these two qualities of planetside excursions were luxuries he couldn’t have stopped to enjoy during his own cycle.

They were... very welcoming. Refreshing.

Long walks through the foliage quickly became a pastime he learned to indulge in order to escape the shipful of brooding primitives. Pressing his fingertips against the bark of a tree revealed a myriad of moments gone by. The growth and decay of little beings, the hints of sunlityears and rainy seasons, and the signatures of all the wildlife that had gone by. Despite many of them having stopped to urinate on said tree.

One day, the male engineer from the drivecore approached as they came up on his position near the tree line during his rotation on guard duty, interrupting Javik’s thoughts with his shrill voice and strange accent. “D’you see anything we should look out for?”

Javik chose to indulge him, just that once.

“A large beast,” he had muttered forebodingly as he pictured the largest animal his wandering fingers could detect in the forest’s recent history. “With teeth only dwarfed by the size of its claws. It wanders by, nightly.” He didn’t bother to stifle his amusement at how the thought of a predator banished the blood from the human’s face, making him starkly pale in the otherwise warm afternoon light. Of course, he wouldn’t tell the engineer that the animal he described only came up to his knees and was strictly herbivorous.

The primitives had come to rely on his ability for more than simply sensing potential threats. The trees harbored the sounds of human children in their roots, laughing, of their parents cursing and spitting and smiling while they bolted together temporary lodgings.

“Eden Prime,” Javik told the crew. A human colony devastated by the Reapers, settlements uprooted and- by Javik’s standards- outdated communication tech destroyed. They had landed somewhere along the planet’s equator, south from the settlement where he was found still frozen in his stasis pod.

Where he last heard the cries of his dying race. Of Victory’s last words to him.

‘ _You will be the voice of our people.’_

Futile words from Victory unto Vengeance. Marooned on a planet, what could he possibly avenge?

Leaving the engineer to peer warily in the woods, Javik turned from his interrupted interlude and headed back to the ship. Upon his return, he’d hoped to take refuge from the crew in the lounge, as his quarters had been saturated with water during the crash. A poor choice, it seemed, to go to a room filled with alcohol when the primitives were so fond of taking to it when their hormones fluctuated.

To make matters worse, the asari followed him there, reeking of sleeplessness and lurking by the doorway.

“I got her killed once already for ignoring a good order.” For some reason, the pilot chose to lament his troubles to Javik. A glass rim pressed to his lips. “And she’s probably dead now because I followed a bad one.”

“In my cycle,” Javik began, having not yet touched his neglected glass on the countertop. “Questioning the orders you were given meant certain death at either the hands of the enemy or your superior. In most cases, the former was preferable.”

The disabled human set his glass down and pinned Javik with a hard stare. “Has anyone told you that you suck at pep talks?”

Javik canted his head to the side, his first set of eyes taking in the curved spine and slumped shoulders of a defeated soldier. The second set read his imbalanced chemical signatures, old signs of depression likely present for years, but more prominent now. The severity was… more than Javik had expected the human to be experiencing. It had spiked when that irksome machine who played at being human had powered down.

Javik shifted, still discomfited by the pilot’s inane attraction to it. “No. If it is empty platitudes you seek, talk to the quarian.”

A breath of air exhaled from his pointed nose in what might have been wry laughter. “I don’t know why I bothered,” thehuman groused at him, and threw back his glass, downing the rest of the liquid contents. Fragile bones creaked as he slowly lifted himself from his seat and hobbled away to sulk elsewhere.

After the uneven steps had disappeared down the corridor, the asari let out a sigh and closed tired, bloodshot eyes while still leaning in the doorway. “I know that nearly everything you’ve experienced since waking up has been hard on you Javik, but a little kindness would go a long way, especially now.”

He snorted, lacing his fingers together on the bartop, unimpressed with her disappointment in him.“‘Kindness’ will not get us off this rock, asari,” he replied simply.

The asari laughed in a bitter-sounding tone. “I should’ve known being upgraded to ‘Dr. T'Soni’ wouldn’t last. Your esteem is very fickle, isn’t it?”

“What is it you want?”

She didn’t move from her post, only stared him down with her expressive blue eyes for several heartbeats. Various emotions flickered across them- curiosity, annoyance, worry... but disappointment remained most prominent. “Did you get the message I sent you? I wrote an introduction for the book and attached it. I was hoping to get your thoughts before I continue-”

“Will a book get us off this rock?”

“Excuse me?”

“You spend your time writing books instead of scavenging for parts and food. Time spent locked away in your room is time added to our stay on this planet.”

The asari pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “ _Goddess_ , and what are you doing besides patronising Joker? For your information, I just returned from the jungle with James and Garrus. We found a derelict shuttle and took what we could from it,” she snapped, as if that somehow proved whatever point she was trying to make. “Now, I’m going back to my room to finish my introduction with or without your input.”

The door cycled shut between them and Javik was left mercifully alone with his thoughts. He convinced himself it was better that way.  


* * *

 

It was four months before the _Normandy_ could rise from her would-be grave and take to the sky. Even then, she only limped, hardly able to achieve FTL. All they could do was travel to the location of the nearest comm-buoy -another two months at their current speed- to get a distress call out. A task made more difficult when the buoy they found was non-functional.

“EDI could’ve fixed it in no time,” the ‘Joker’ human complained as he tried and failed to keep his eyes from wandering toward the entrance of the War Room where they had gathered, no doubt picturing the elevator down the hall. The machine lay motionless in the AI core below them.

“I know,” the Spectre agreed as he cast a look of pity at the pilot. “But we don’t have her right now.”

“What do we have?” The ‘Traynor’ human queried, her tone determined despite the weight of futility that her question carried.

“You have me,” thequarian chimed in, her voice admittedly strong despite her withered appearance. Her opaque mask was fixed on the holographic comm-buoy that rotated at the center of the table they had assembled around. “And Garrus,” she finished with a nod in the turian’s direction, his skeletal frame looking no better than hers.   

Rations were running low for all, but none looked as decrepit as the turian and quarian.

Dextro supplies were limited to begin with and after months of rationing, they both had to take to their respective quarters, lest they move too much and burn precious calories. This meeting was the first time Javik had seen either of them in weeks.

The purple envirosuit hung off the quarian’s limbs like old, loose skin and the turian’s armor had become too heavy for him to bear any longer. Additionally, the lack of nutrition did no favors for his damaged leg- an injury he had acquired during the final push with the Commander.

Watching them waste away made Javik thankful for his people’s ability to go days without food. One ration bar every three days was more than enough for him. If only he had the more advanced supplements of his time, with those he could have gone five or six days without nourishment.

The ‘Kaidan’ human pursed his strange, flappy lips and his eyes shifted between the two emaciated dextro-aliens. “You sure?” he questioned, scepticism heavy in his tone, though without a hint of condescension. “That’s asking a lot considering…” he faded off, allowing the poor condition of their bodies to speak for him.

A quick look was exchanged between the turian and quarian before the former nodded. His mandible shifted into what Javik assumed was supposed to be a smirk, though it was absent of its usual cockiness. “We’ve got it, Kaidan,” assured the turian. “If I could get the Thanixoperating at one-hundred thirty-seven percent above the manufacturer’s recommended guidelines, then Tali and I can fix a damn comm-buoy.”

“What happens if the others are damaged?” The large, ‘James’ human posited, his bulky arms folded across his chest.

“We have Glyph,” the asari offered, her blue eyes flashing as she leaned forward to brace her hands on the table.

“ _Yes, Doctor T’soni?”_ The mentioned VI immediately zipped to her side but was promptly ignored.

“Glyph can leave the ship without harm,” she continued. “And it can amplify our distress signal, if need be.”

“ _That is correct,”_ the VI unhelpfully interjected. “ _I have been outfitted with several versions of mass effect software, which allows me to act as a booster to communication distance parameters.”_ The VI whizzed away from its owner to hover beside the holographic image before them. “ _A helpful feature for the Shadow Broker when Doctor T’soni requires-”_

“Thank you, Glyph,” the asari cut in with a curt tone. “That should be sufficient to get a message to Earth.”

“Assuming there are still people there to receive it,” the large human countered without heat. A measured look was exchanged first between him and the asari before it traveled around the table, ending with the Spectre. The resultant silence screamed with the fears none of them dared to voice. Trepidation pricked at Javik's skin like the pins and needles of a sleeping limb.

“Alright,”the Spectre agreed slowly before a long sigh left him through a weary smile. “Let’s do it. Dismissed.”

Work had begun immediately, but it was slow due to the mechanics’ dwindling health. Ultimately, it would take a week before the first distress call could go out. During that week of idle waiting, Javik found himself sorely missing the jungle. Now, marooned in space, there were no more trees whispering in the wind, only idle chatter of the primitives as they flitted nervously about. Instead of visionary images of biology in action, he was now justprivy to the chemical and hormonal spikes of the lesser races.

It was so maddening that it made even the asari’s presence tolerable. In his boredom, he read the introduction she’d sent him… twice. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing he’d read, even if it lacked the finer nuances that was once present in the writings of his own people.

And, at the very least, there were no signs of Reapers. Had the Commander done it? He did not dare to hope. Not until he could be sure.

The answer to that would come late into their last monthwhile adrift near the now-working comm-buoy, when their distress signal was finally answered. After that, they were tracked down by a passing Alliance frigate. The _Normandy_ was attached to the ship and towed the rest of the way back to what the humans have come to call the ‘Sol’ system.

Fortunately for the turian and quarian, the frigate had dextro provisions for them to eat, enough that they would survive another week of travel.

During the trip back to populated skies, the Spectre spoke with the ‘Hackett’ human over comm-link, with the rest of the crew gathered around like children waiting for their share of salarian liver. Javik stood aside by the door, quietly listening for news of the galaxy’s fate.

The Reapers had been defeated, each and every one apparently falling in the wake of that same red blast that swept through the galaxy and knocked the _Normandy_ offline. As far as they could tell, anyway.

Javik wasn’t quite sure how to process that information yet.

“Any word on Shepard, sir?” was the first question posed by the ‘Kaidan’ human. Collectively, the room stilled, each pair of binocular-set eyes aimed at the speaker from which the gift-bearer’s voice would fall from.

“Still missing, I’m afraid,” is what the ‘Hackett’ human told them with a matter-of-fact tone as if giving a simple mission report. “If that changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Garrus.” Dr. T’soni looked to the turian with pitying eyes, but he kept his attention on the comm-speaker in front of him.

“And the Primarch?” he asked, seemingly determined not to meet the sympathetic gazes that were leveled at him. The quarian, too, had forgone watching the hologram to put her focus on him instead.

“Alive.” the comm reported. “Trebia was the first relay to be brought online. Primarch Victus left with the turian military almost two weeks ago.”

The shoulders that bracketed the turian’s cowl dropped slightly, relieved. He muttered a quick ‘understood’ before he turned and left without another word. His tall, emaciated frame stepped around Javik on spindly legs and exited, not bothering to look back.

His mood would not improve for the duration of his stay on the _Normandy_. And when they docked at Earth, Javik found that his own would noteither.

During his cycle, ‘self-preservation is the first principle of our nature,’ was a common phrase among his people. By the time he was born, artisans were dead. Masons were gone. Scholars, extinct. Those who lived were those who could fight. Even the scientists viewed their field as a minor, a necessary add-on in addition to their aim.

There was no sense of rebuilding. Only survival. By the time of his birth, his people had long ago decided to put the idea of reconstruction as a future bridge to cross when they came to it. That decision was made before the protheansrealized the galaxy as they knew it would collapse, still miles away from that bridge and it too would rust and dissolve away in their absence like dust in the wind.

Javik… wasn’t sure how to feel about what he saw on Earth.

Scaffolding had been erected alongside buildings. Pristine glass windows reflected the image of healthy trees plantedoutside. And, most shocking of all, races intertwined; asari, salarian, humans, krogan, quarians, all working together to mold the remaining ashes into something resembling what they once were. Turians were absent, gone from the planet weeks ago. The first to escape their Earthly prison, as it were.

They had landed in the city called London and, naturally, the first place the crew ventured to was the last place the Commander had been seen. Javik trailed behind, not wanting to intermix with their rampant emotions.He knew their pain as he had felt it himself countless times before.

_Blood pours from the slits in their throats. Vacant eyes watch him, questioning him. They aren’t his men anymore. They haven't been for some time._

Javik paused, crouching down to press his fingers into the soil. Closing his bottom set of eyes, his top set remained opened to take in the sensations that tingled against his skin. Tension ran through his ungloved hand:adrenaline, fear, pain. Languages flooded his mind. Various dialects of not only humans, but other races. Asari, salarian, human-

“ _No matter what happens here, you know I love you. And I always will.”_

Javik focused on the words, felt the fear that coated them as they spoke. It was an unguarded emotion, one he hadn’t often sensed from the individual, though he knew she felt it during quiet moments. Desperation.

With both sets of eyes now open, Javik stood from his crouch and began walking in the direction he sensed the voice. He moved several paces before he stooped to feel the ground again.

Terror. Weariness. Unwavering resolve.

He moved again, following the energy along the thin, sightless path it created. Cries rang in his head with each touch to the ground, though silence reigned supreme around him.

_Heavy footfalls of scurrying combat boots. Gunfire._ _The moans of husks._

_A Reaper trumpets and his vision is colored crimson._

Javik stopped and his eyes dropped to his feet. There, half-buried in the blackened ground, a memory shard poked out. It was so unassuming that anyone else would have likely missed it, leaving it there as its last resting place.

“Are you all right?” Dr. T’soni approached, careful to keep some distance between them.

Javik turned at the voice, spotting the asari,as well as the rest of the crew,watching him. They had apparently noticed his behavior and ceased their own searches to follow his own.

“The Commander was right here,” Javik replied, ignoring her question.

“She was?” The ‘James’ human stepped forward.

“I sense terror here,” he explained. “Not only from the Commander. All around. Those who rushed to their deaths.” Javik turned his gaze onto the quiet titan that lay dormant in the distance, still hearing the blare of its firing mechanism before it launched what was likely one ofits final attacks. He tore his gaze from his old enemy to regard the half-buried shard, not daring to touch it again. “The Commander dropped my memory shard.”

“This?” The asari bent to pull the shard from the soil, still intact despite the abuse it had received. As resilient as the nightmares it harbored. She held it up between them, but Javik only blinked at it. After a moment, she extended her arm to offer it back, clearly thinking it as something he wanted to keep.

Javik turned and moved on, ignoring the proffered shard in favor of the Commander’s energy trail, faint as it was and growing fainter.

“The Commander did not fall here,” he informed, hearing their collective steps following from behind. Heavy boots from the male humans, light steps from the quarian and asari, a limp from the uncharacteristically silent, wounded turian. They moved as a troop, following Javik as he pursued the signatures until he stopped at the place where they were drowned out by a great burst of energy. The _Crucible_ , he knew. “Her signature ends here.”

The turian hobbled forward, hiding his pain behind fluttering mandibles. His long fringe brushed the top of his carapace as he tilted his head back to stare up at the clearing sky. The gaze was symbolic. There was nothing to see as the Citadel, caught in Earth’s orbit, had long since begun its rotation around the planet.

No words would soothe his pain, so Javik offered none. He allowed them to follow the Commander’s final moments. He could do nothing else but leave her crew to their grieving. Maybe she considered him as part of it, but he wasn’t sure he agreed. His place was in the Cronian Nebula, among the ashes of his fallen soldiers.

He would join them soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** ‘self-preservation is the first principle of our nature,’ quote by Alexander Hamilton


	2. Chapter 2

One by one, as more relays were activated, the _Normandy_ crew scattered to the wind. Commander Shepard had yet to be declared dead, but as the silence persisted, hope faded. As days turned to weeks, Javik stayed away from them all.

A small hovel had been provided to him by the Alliance and Javik spent most of his time sequestered inside, ignoring the ghostly screams of the previous occupants. Their final moments in the room had not been pleasant. Disregarding them was an easy task because the sounds of his neighbors’ fervent copulation often robbed him of the ability to focus on anything for long. Primitives required more sleep than his own people did, but apparently that rule did not apply to his restless neighbors.

The relay link for his targeted system had yet to open. As such, he was trapped within his temporary residence until it did. And then his job would be complete.

After countless lifetimes, including his own, Vengeance would finally rest.

A knock at his door tore him from his thoughts. Checking the entrance camera with his omni-tool- and fighting the urge to sigh at the inconvenience of such inefficient technology- he was met by the sight of Dr. T’soni standing outside his door. The lines of her body were straight, though she had one arm folded across her stomach to hold the forearm of the other. With a swipe of his finger across the holo-interface, the red circle of his door flashed to green and, after a brief second of hesitancy, she stepped forward, triggering it to cycle open.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, floating into his one-room residency on light feet. Her blue eyes scanned her surroundings, lingering for a second on the dividing wall when a lewd-sounding _‘Yes. Harder!’_ echoed into their quiet. She tried for discretion while taking in his sparse furnishings- his coffee table that supported a glass of water- before settling onto him and the gray, threadbare sofa he sat upon.

“What would you be interrupting?” heasked, gesturing to his poor seating arrangement and pointedly ignoring the desperate _‘I’m trying!’_ that returned through the useless wall next.

There was something about his tone she clearly did not like, though she did an admirable job at hiding that fact. Were he not able to sense emotions, she would have succeeded.

Choosing to ignore the question, she launched straight to the point of her visit. “I’m boarding a shuttle tomorrow,” she said, pausing to allow him time to question it. When he simply blinked at her, her pencilled brow twitched, annoyed. “I purchased a ship last week and I plan to meet with the seller this afternoon in Bristol.”

How she had the funds for such a purchase, Javik did not know, though he had his suspicions given the asari’s shady profession. He could not say he was surprised. She would do well to leave the planet at last. It was among the stars she could spin her web, capture her secrets, and live the life she had fought for.

The water in his glass began to ripple in time with the rhythmic thumping from the occupants next door.

“I suspect you did not come to me to brag,” he observed, his eyes falling away to study his omni-tool once again. He did not have to look at her to know that her fingers flexed, tempted to close into a fist, but they remained loose at her hip.

“No,” she agreed, shifting her weight to her other hip. “Actually, I came to ask if you wanted to come with me.”

Javik paused in his reading -an article about which relays were suspected to be activated next- and looked up to regard his guest. That, he privately admitted, surprised him. As far as he knew, he was the last person he thought she wouldwant anywhere near her without necessity.

There was only one question on his mind: “Why?”

The asari held his gaze, folding her arms across her chest. “What else are you going to do?”

“I am to find my final resting place.” That was an answer she wasn’t expecting. Though she continued to hold his gaze, the stretched skin beneath her brow betrayed her startlement. Silence lengthened between them, so thick that not even his obnoxious neighbors could penetrate it. Though, his glass began creeping towards the edge of his table. Javik decided to press on before she could interject. “In the Cronian Nebula.”

He expected objection. Despite her chosen career path, the asari’s heart was as malleable as a hanar’s kidney. What he didn’t expect was for her to deadpan: “I could take you there.” When he didn’t immediately reply, she sighed and unfolded her arms. “All I ask in exchange is information.”

“You and that infernal book,” Javik grumbled after quickly reaching to catch his glass before it made its descent off the edge of the table. He resettled it back in the center. “It is better to allow ghosts to slumber, asari. You will only find disappointment.”

“I’m aware. And that’s a risk I’m willing to take, if you are.” She stepped towards him, slowly at first, but gained confidence as their distance closed. “You’re not what I expected, Javik. You know that, but you’re still the best source on your people that I’ll ever have.”

She stopped just in front of where he sat on his couch and raised her omni-tool, white-gloved fingers sliding across the interface. After a moment, she paused, allowing her eyes to flit across the screen before she looked up at him again. “I have it on good authority that the Cronian Nebula is on track to be activated in approximately two months.”

“‘Two months,’ is it?”

“Yes. I would prefer more time for notes, but I can make two months work. In exchange, I’ll bring you to the relay when it’s activated. That’s option one.”

“And the second option?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“You stay here and wait,” she began only to be cut off by the voices raising next door.

“ _I’m coming! I’m coming!”_

“ _Wait, I’m not do-”_

Javik was too slow to stop his top set of eyes from twitching at the resultant shriek that rang through the room.

The asari’s mouth twitched when she continued with: “For the next two months.”

  



	3. Chapter 3

They left Earth’s orbit three days later.

The ship was small. Other than the cockpit it had a storage room, a tiny kitchenette, and three separate rooms to be used as sleeping quarters, the largest of which went to the asari’s many terminals. Javik set himself up in the space closest to the only washroom, feeling the need to constantly scrub his hands of the ship’s residue.

Decades and several owners ago, the courser had been a small-time slaver ship, a fact that the asari was not aware of when she made her purchase. At night, Javik was awoken by the wails of children and the cruel slurs that were hurled at them.

Additionally, the irksome VI seemed to take great joy in pursuing him around the ship and notifying him of his stress levels. It was almost enough to make him long for his old apartment. At least there, no one spoke to him.

It was… an adjustment.

It was only a day into their travels before Dr. T’soni approached him with a datapad in hand. She began with simple questions such as what his species ate. Admittedly, he deflected with replies like ‘the flesh of the fallen.’ Sometimes she would stand up and leave with a growl of frustration. Sometimes she would simply sigh, type in her notes, and move on to the next mundane query.

One day, nervously, she approached the topic of family.

“We didn’t have them,” he told her.

“I see.” Her tone implied a misunderstanding and her penciled brows knitted together as she poked at her datapad. She would move on, Javik knew, resigned to his unhelpful answer.

“Not in the sense that your cycle does,” he found himself elaborating.

Dr. T’soni’s hand froze and her gaze lifted slowly off the screen to meet his. Somewhat tentatively, she asked: “How so?”

“We selected partners, but we did not reproduce with them.”

The datapad was lowered to her lap and she leaned forward in her seat, staring incredulously. “ _Goddess._ You’re saying you were bred?”

He did not need to ask in order to know the dark channels of which her mind had spiraled. “You appear surprised.”

Dr. T’soni leaned back in her chair as if remembering herself. “I suppose I shouldn’t be.”

“We were at war,” he reminded her. “A race against our own extinction. There was no room for sentimentality. Barely time to form friendships before they crumbled under the weight of indoctrination.” Rather than be interrupted again, he paused to give his audience a chance to chime in. When no questions arose, he continued. “After each birth, chromosomes were taken from every infant. If the genes were particularly strong, they were cloned. The child would be monitored throughout their life and their genes paired off based on their strengths and achievements.”

“To develop the best soldiers possible,” she concluded.

“Or scientists, if that was what the DNA was inclined towards.”

“Or artists?”

“Before the Reapers, yes.” Javik canted his head to the side. “But art does not win wars.”

His statement hung in the air, screaming in its silence. “I see,” she repeated, though the tone was different this time. Not that of disappointment but interest and, perhaps, a little sadness. “You used the word ‘born.’ Did you have a mother?”

“I did, but she did not give birth to me.” The datapad had moved to the nearby table, forgotten. “We had moved beyond the impediments of biological birth.”

“Laboratorial development,” she uttered to herself as she reached for her datapad to quickly jot down another note. “That would be faster than natural pregnancy for replenishing numbers.”

Javik nodded slowly. “And it freed every sorely-needed soldier and scientist to perform their duties unhindered.”

“And who raised you, if not parents?” The pad sat idle in her hands as she focused her attention on him again.

“Men and women with an aptitude for teaching ran nurseries that would double as training grounds for the young.” For the first time since their conversation began, Javik dropped his eyes. He watched, without reading, the white script that scrawled across the datapad’s blue interface. “I met my mother there. She taught me to fight, to hunt, to survive... at all costs.”

Lost in his thoughts, he was barely aware of how quiet he’d gone. It was only after he heard her voice that he realized he’d trailed off.

“If you like, we can put this discussion off for another day.” The datapad returned to the table again, leaving her gloved hands unburdened in his stare. He watched as one twitched, as if tempted to reach out to him, but she refrained.

“No.” It was just one more nightmare to confront. “I learned many lessons from her. The last of them would be that no one was strong enough to resist indoctrination.”

The asari’s strange, five fingered hands curled into the tops of her thighs. The whole frame of her body was as frozen as the cold silence enveloped them once again. Facial expressions were unnecessary for him to read her emotions. Pain radiated off her, prickling his skin like biting insects.

“I’m sorry,” she said eventually and then drew in a long, steadying breath. “I was taught the same lesson from own mother. I… had always believed her to be unstoppable.”

Javik thought back to the woman who taught him to control his abilities- to heal wounds and rip his enemies apart. She was indomitable. “I still remember hearing the news, that she was put down like a rabid animal. A mercy. One that I am glad I did not have to gift.”

“I did.”

Javik blinked and looked up at his companion. Her response had been unexpected and looking at her now it wasn’t misery he encountered when he met her sharp eyes.

It was resolve.

 

* * *

 

 

Time was a new concept for Javik, one that he did not expect to cause him to struggle. Throughout his lifetime, minutes were measured in casualty reports. Every movement was monitored for efficiency. No one cruised around in a shipaimlessly as Javik now did in his current company.

Dr. T’soni continued to question him on a daily basis. Admittedly, he found himself minding less and less with each session. It was a nice distraction from the nothing he typically did. Providing answers was something he was good at, something to which he was accustomed. Quietly, it made him feel useful like he wasn’t simply squandering precious time. Though there were moments when deflection would still be his natural response to her queries.

“What were your communication networks like?” Blue eyes peeked over the top of the ever-present datapad. “With your abilities I imagine they were quite extensive.”

“You should know, asari. Your people benefitted from them.” Javik steepled his fingers and fixed all four eyes on his audience. He couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at his mouth when he continued: “A gift from your gods, as I understand.”

She sniped a dry, unimpressed look over the top of her device before dropping her eyes to the unseen text below. He didn’t miss the slight crinkle at the corner of her eyes, indicative of a hidden smile.

Their interactions were not always amicable, however.

“Asari.” Predictably, she was in her quarters, camped in front of her screens. The lighting was kept dimmed save for the glow of her monitors bathed her azure skin in hues of blues and oranges.

“That is not my name, Prothean,” she countered without so much as a backward glance over her shoulder.

From the doorway, Javik tilted his head and asked sardonically: “If you are here, who is piloting the ship?”

“You know the answer to that.”

That was the answer he had been expecting. Still, he straightened and crossed his arms for good measure. “That _drone_ is not a suitable pilot and you are foolish to entrust our lives to it.”

For a moment, the only reply he received was the idle sound of her fingers tapping the various keys of her consoles. Several images cycled on the monitor in front of her and he even recognized a few of them- Eden Prime, Earth, London, the ‘Hackett’ human.

“Glyph operates at seven times the speed of our own brains. It can make split-second decisions in the time it would take you or me to blink.”

Javik fixed the back of his shipmate’s head with a long, hard stare. “You speak as if that is supposed to assuage my fears.”

“Fine.” She pushed away from her desk and wheeled her chair around to face him. “Don’t place your trust in it. I don’t expect you to.”

“Your sentiment is hollow when I am not presented with a choice, asari.”

“You do have a choice,” she parried. “You can place your trust in me as I have in you.”

Javik watched her for a moment, even after she lost interest and returned her attention back to her monitors, the glow from the screens outlining the lines of her body. It was only when he returned to his quiet quarters- echoesof wailing lives aside- that he was able to privately conclude that she had never given him reason to doubt.

It would be two days before he would see Dr. T’soni again. She kept herself hidden in her room, staring at her screens. Even their sessions had fallen to the wayside, something which surprised Javik when it caused him to feel a slight sense of… disappointment. On the third day, she sought him out.

“ _There is no cause for concern.”_ The vexing drone zipped about while Javik ignored it, all four eyes fixed on the stars ahead. “ _I am equipped to measure your vitals with one-hundred percent accuracy and minimal discomfort.”_

He had no intention of answering the machine, knowing it would persist whether or not he wasted breath on it. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to.

“Glyph,” Dr. T’soni’s voice rang through the cockpit. From his periphery, he saw a flash of blue as the drone mercifully abandoned him in favor of its mistress.

“ _Yes, Dr. T’soni?”_

“Will you please go to the cargo bay and take inventory of our supplies?” Javik hid a smile at the incompetent VI’s expense. They did not have a cargo bay.

“ _Right away.”_

Javik felt eyes on his back and he turned his chair to face his distant shipmate.

“That machine is a menace,” he told her.

She ignored him. “A contact has recently put me in touch with a high-ranking member of Eclipse. They want to meet in a secluded location on Earth. I told them I was interested.”

The location wasn’t surprising as few relays had still yet to be repaired. For the time being, Earth had become the place one went to for business arrangements both nefarious and benign. So far, Dr. T’soni’s dealings had been of the latter and never in person.

“What is it you want that they can provide?”

“Information, mostly.” Liara gave him an appraising look before she raised her hand to study the stitching on her white glove. “I’m to meet with a salarian that calls himself‘Serdol Azik’ for negotiations.” Her gaze slid back to him and the corner of her mouth twitched. “I wouldn’t mind some backup in the event these negotiations go... poorly.”

The innocent visage that the asari normally wore was cracked by amusement found in her small smile. It had been some time since Javik had the chance to stretch his abilities beyond picking up the traces of people long-gone.He hadn’t fought in months and his only exercise was in the form of a physical routine he had committed to memory. In many ways he was thankful for it, but there was another part of him that wanted to reach out and grab onto the first thing that reminded him of who he once was.

Undoubtedly, the asari knew it.

Javik reclined in his chair and asked: “How many hours until we land?”


	4. Chapter 4

The meeting was not going how Javik expected.

They had landed on Earth, in a city called Belém. It was a large metropolis that was hit hard by the Reapers during the war. Buildings were destroyed and there was strife over trade agreements with the other nations on Earth, but it was the closest city to their navpoint that had also rebuilt enough to accept ships again. From there, they took a small shuttle to a ghostly village, no more than a blot on the map, before renting a land rover to take them the rest of the way.

Under Dr. T’soni’s control, she maneuvered the vehicle down muddy roads and over fallen trees. Branches scraped against the rover and the tires spun in the muck. Several times they had to step out and make use of their biotics to remove debris from their path, but the trip was largely unremarkable.

When they arrived at the navpoint, they discovered a large building located in the middle of the Amazonianrainforest, still abandoned from the war by its previous occupants. Inside, a VI chimed merrily at their arrival- ‘Welcome to Aquigenx Industries!’- and terminals flickered atop dusty desks, still powered by a stubborn generator that rumbled from somewhere deep below them. The structure had been designed with rainy seasons in mind, making it well sealed from the elements outside even as vines had begun to creep up the sides.

“I need you to stay hidden,” Dr. T’soni said to him when they reached an office she found suitable for the meeting.

Javik narrowed all four eyes. “That is not what we agreed upon.”

Standing her ground, the asari folded her arms and returned his glare. “I’m under an alias and you’re too recognizable. Just stay within earshot of the conversation.”

Javik was about to argue more when they heard the VI from downstairs chime the same greeting it had spouted at them. Their guest had arrived.

Azure eyes widened at the sound. “Quickly!” sheurged, gloved hands reaching for his shoulders to physically spin him around and shove him toward her intended hiding place. “Get in the closet.”

The location of the meeting itself was not what caught Javik off-guard. Nor was it the fact that he was expected to hide. Inside a moldy closet, no less- he had to force himself to ignore the feeling of something slithering across his foot. No, what surprised him was that he allowed it.

Javik pressed his fingers to the floor, careful of whatever had slid across his boot just moments ago. Concentrating, he felt around for sensations other than Liara’s outside. He didn’t have to wait for a trace of energy to tingle against his fingers, indicating the new arrival.

Javik pressed his hand against the durasteel door and felt, more than heard,a nasaland undoubtedly salarian voice.

“Aezina D'rava, I presume?” The newcomer said when he entered the room.

“Yes, it’s good to meet you at last, Dr. Azik.” Liara’s signature moved across the room, presumably to physically greet her new guest.

Javik paid little attention to the details of what was being said- he knew Liara was paying enough attention to that for them both. The aspect of the conversation that interested him was how the words were said. The salarian’s presence prickled uncomfortably at his skin. There was a coldness in his energy in contrast to the warm words he spoke.

Pleasantries fell from his mouth in a stream of poison.

Javik opened the door.

Dr. T’soni was mid-sentence when the door cycled open and her mouth hung slightly as she turned her gaze onto him. Without a reason to keep up the charade another second, she didn’t bother to hide the resultant roll of her eyes. The salarian took one look at the approaching relic and stumbled back.

“M-ms. D’rava,” he stammered, his black eyes widening like prey recognizing the snare it was in.

“He is lying, asari,” Javik informed, steadily closing the distance between himself and their foe.

“Is he now?” Slowly, Liara turned a pitiless gaze onto the salarian, her mouth closing in the same motion.

“What is th-?” Words cut off the instant Javik grabbed his forearm, seizing it before it could be wrested away. Within seconds a flood of emotions and images flickered through his mind -messages from an Aezina D'rava, the building they were currently in, breath entering his lungs after a steadying pull of oxygen, preparing himself while orders entered his aural canal from the left.

“Think of the explosives as Plan B,” the asari merc captain instructed, annoyed as if he was some sort of inconvenience. That fucking cloaca-sucking whore- he’d always hated her. “Just keep her talking. It’s not difficult.”

Javik allowed the forearm to go when its owner yanked it harshly from his grip and went toppling backward. “What the fuck was that!?” he stammered, dropping all pretenses of civility as he scrambled backward. His orb-like black eyes flickered between the prothean and the asari as he went.

“He is wearing a wire.” From his periphery, he noticed the asari straighten to her full height, her face an impassive mask as the Shadow Broker sized up her feeble quarry. “A fact that he thinks you do not know.”

At that, the salarian’s gaze zeroed in on the asari, his eyes widening when he met her own icy stare. “I knew,” she said and took a step toward her target.

“The wire records what you are saying,” Javik went on. “But it serves another function, one that not even he knows.” Now he had the salarian’s attention. “It’s on a timer, rigged to explode. We must go-”

Javik stopped as realization dawned in the salarian’s terrified face- he had been tricked as well. Clearly, he was not aware that both he and his target would die once the information was exchanged and his superiors got what they wanted.

Javik should have seen the pistol leave its holster, the action born of desperation from a man hoping to escape with his life. And later he would berate himself for not seeing the warning. Within the span of two heartbeats, an energy bolt exploded in front of his face, destroyed as it impacted the biotic barrier that had erupted around him.

It wasn’t his own.

The asari’s hand cut through the air and the biotic field followed, slamming into the stunned salarian and sent him flying across the room. A white flash went off before his body could even touch the ground, but Javik was ready this time. His fists closed and his abilities flared. Green energy flared up and around him and his partner, joining with the blue barrier she had conjured as well.

White heat blasted against their shields, the orange fire turned a bright cyan from the inside of the dual green and blue biotic energy. It swirled harmlessly around them, licking at the dark energy that protected them even as the floor gave way beneath them.

Airborneand with the inferno around them, Javik stole a glance at the creature beside him. Liara’s arms were raised, her hands splayed against the hellfire that threatened to swallow them. Shadows from the flames danced along her fringe and when she turned her face towards him, he could see that they also swirled over her freckled cheeks.

Then she smiled as if to convey an apology, vexed at the sudden turn in her plan but unworried of its ultimate outcome. And neither was he. It was in that moment Javik realized just how much he trusted her.

The rest was a flurry of activity.

Debris rained down in all directions as they descended to the bottom floor. A mixture of smoke and eezo permeated his senses, but in a way in which he was familiar. In his experience, biotics and explosions tended to go hand-in-hand. Once their feet touched the bottom floor, they fled through the smoke-filled room, black clouds parting at the surface of their barrier.

Expectantly, they found the front door barred, but their opponents clearly had no idea who they were trifling with. Without needing to verbally communicate, the pair read each other’s movements like a language only they knew, practiced from their shared experience on the _Normandy_. Liara kept hold of her end of the barrier while Javik focused his energy for a moment, gathering from within before sending it toward the door. Glass shattered and metal bent at the impact, resisting for only a second before the blockade was blown from their path and they hurdled out into the damp jungle.

Gunfire roared in the air before energy blasts pinged off their shields. Fortunately, their vehicle wasn’t far. They ran, biotically slamming their enemies out of the way until they made it to the doors. Javik killed three mercenaries that had taken cover on the passenger side with a dark channel as Liara was slamming the rover into drive before they’d even settled in their seats.

As they pelted down the same path they had taken to get there, trundling over any bodies in their way, the asari released a long breath. “Goddess.” Her gloved hands had yet to loosen on the wheel. “That could have gone better.”

Javik glanced at the mirrors, watching the sight they left behind. Though it was still daylight, the area had darkened with smoke and the foliage was outlined with an angry orange hue. A black plume reached for the sky, no doubt visible to the closest Alliance base. They would arrive shortly.

Glancing back at the asari, he caught sight of a twitch at the corner of her mouth and he was suddenly reminded of the images he saw on her monitor. One of which being the ‘Hackett’ human. “You planned this,” he observed with a tilt of his head.

“I would like to think I’m not that obvious.”

“You are not,” he conceded, almost smiling as he said it. Liara’s eyes met his own for a brief second before they went back to the muddy road ahead, her fingers finally loose on the wheel. Javik was tempted to admit that he was impressed, to tell her that he enjoyed fighting at her side, that it reminded him of his time spent with those that once fought beside him.

Their faces, however, kept him silent.

 

* * *

 

 

Javik was surprised to experience a sense of… relief when Dr. T’soni asked for another meeting. The discomfort of reliving the memories was painful, but it was beginning to lessen somewhat. He found her presence calming and she seemed to be learning to read him, gauging his reactions and adjusting her approach accordingly.

Their sessions were beginning to feel more and more like conversations.

One day, after the topic of how the ranking system worked in the prothean military turned into a recounting of the day he had discovered that his commander was indoctrinated and also in the process of leading his troop into an ambush, she surprised him by asking: “Have you considered talking to someone about this?”

“I am talking to you,” he replied with an incline of his head.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I’m… not referring to myself. My field is not in psychology.”

“Perhaps not,” he acknowledged, leaning back in his chair, his shoulders loose from the ease of the conversation. “But it is appreciated, all the same.”

And it was. For a primitive Liara was… intelligent, even by his people’s standards. While most in this cycle stumbled along like children in the dark, she never made a move without proper recourse. Speaking with her was unexpectedly... freeing, as if he was finally offered the space to map out his thoughts that he didn’t know he craved.

Of course, as always, their interactions were not always amicable.

“If I must wake up to that drone hovering over my head one more time, I will throw it out the airlock, asari,” he threatened as he stormed into her quarters, rubbing his sore hip after he had snapped awake and went toppling unceremoniously out of bed that morning.

“Do it, and I’ll throw _you_ out the airlock.” Javik was about to argue further but his words caught in his throat as he looked at the asari from across the room. Per usual she was in front of her terminals, but she was drawn in on herself, her arms hugging around her middle. Most telling was that she refused to look at him, unusual considering he had uttered something she found offensive. She would normally meet him with fire in such instances.

“I received a notification from Admiral Hackett,” she told him with a resonance in her voice that took him a moment to place. Sadness.

“Oh?” Javik tilted his head. “Does he wish for you to blow up another merc group?”

“No.” Her tone was grave and she still refused to look his way. “The relay for the Cronian Nebula has been activated.” She paused, still staring at the screen in front of her as if she expected some sort of question or interjection, of which Javik had none. His course was clear from the beginning. “He has agreed to meet you at the fueling station near the relay and take you the rest of the way. We’re on course now, ETA is in one week.”

Javik’s eyes narrowed. “It is an odd thing that he agreed.”

Dr. T’soni replied with a one-shoulder shrug. “Not really. He owes favors to both Shepard and me and since you were part of her crew…”

“I see.”

“Javik?” It wasn’t often she used his name and the way it left her now sounded almost distressed. It demanded his attention. Slowly, she turned in her chair to look at him and it took him a moment, staring at her in the dim room, to realize that she had been… crying. “Why do you want to die?”

There were two options laid before him. He could turn around without a word and return to his quarters, certain that the asari would not follow him. It would solidify a distance between them, a distance he knew had begun to close. Or…

“Do you recall the memory shard you picked up?”

The asari’s tattooed brows knitted together before she opened up the top drawer at her desk and withdrew the very shard in question. “This?” she asked, studying it while she turned it over in her hand. Even from across the room, it called to him.

“Yes.” Javik glanced at the only available place to sit- the edge of her bed. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” she acquiesced, gesturing to a spot on her mattress directly across from her chair. The space between her chair and her mattress was small, with barely a half-meter-wide gap.

“It is called an Echo Shard,” he began once he was seated. “It was a tradition to pass it along throughout the ages, prothean to prothean, soldier to soldier. Each adding their memories to it. On and on to a time before the Reapers.”

“Goddess,” Liara breathed and suddenly looked at the artifact with a renewed sense of wonder. “Javik… this is…”

“All that is left of my people.” He could hear the solemn timbre of his own voice as he said the words for the second time in his life. Staring at his hands, he knew the asari was watching him, desperate to ask the question that was obviously on her mind. Javik raised his eyes up and did it for her: “Would you like to see? With your ability, I could show you what I saw-”

“Yes!” she blurted and scooted forward in her seat, eyes wide with barely contained excitement. It would have been adorable had he not known the horrors she would also witness along with the wonders. Suddenly remembering herself, Liara leaned away, tempering her enthusiasm. “If you wouldn’t mind, that is.”

“I do not,” he found himself saying. “Give me your hand. I would like to try something.”

“All right.” A blue, five-fingered hand rested gently in his palm, sending electricity through his skin.

“Now it is your turn,” he prompted.

The asari took a steadying breath and fixed her gaze onto his. It was almost humorous when she was momentarily undecided as to which set she would look into. Then,her blue eyes went black as night and she said, “Take a deep breath and relax. Embrace eternity.”

Before he was drawn in, Javik tugged at her signature.

It was like a rope had been stretched out between them, each of them holding one end and leaning back on it, balancing on the heels of their feet. A fragile equilibrium that kept them balanced and upright.

It was a sensation he had never experienced before.

Mentally, he increased his strength, drawing the asari forward slightly, just enough to assert his memories with her abilities.

Stars erupted around them. The laughter of children. Disagreements with colleagues. Enormous ships in the sky. And then, solid walls around them, thick and impregnable like the fortress of lore that it was. Protheans walked briskly passed him, some even walked through him, completely unaware of their out-of-time visitors. Footsteps echoed off stone floors.

Beside him, a bewildered asari twisted and turned, desperate to take in as much of the architecture as she could. Javik felt the corner of his mouth tugging toward a smile as he watched her struggle to decide on what she wanted to look at more; her surroundings or the ghosts of the people that lived there.

“By the Goddess.” The words left her lips in a hushed breath. Then her questions fell in rapid succession. “Where are we? What is this? Are these _your_ memories?”

Javik chuckled. “This-” He gestured to the stone corridor they stood in.“-Is the Quasar Fortress of the Tirandi Veil, seen through the memories of someone who lived in a time to experience it.”

Liara completed a sixth -or perhaps tenth- rotation before she found the ability to ask: “How… how long ago?”

“Sometime before the Reapers.” Javik paused, watching the people as they moved. They were clearly much younger than him, likely in their adolescent years. “It was an ancient military headquarters, built by the ditakur. After my people conquered them, the facility was converted into one dedicated to the arts and education for the empire. That is all I know. Only rubble remained by the time of my birth.”

“Can I- Can we look around?” Her eyes focused on him for the first time since their arrival.

Javik understood her excitement. He had been just as awestruck when he touched the shard that fateful night on the _Normandy_. From the commander’s perspective, the experience likely appeared to take only seconds, but to him, it was much longer.

Javik nodded. “Of course.”

Leading his starstruck companion through the halls of the past made his own excitement grow.

She gushed at the writing on a plaque they found.

“My translator can’t even read this!”

He read it to her.

She unabashedly watched as a young couple stole small, affectionate gestures before their studies tore them apart.

“I had no idea your abilities could be used for that!”

He found himself tempted to show her.

She reached out uselessly to a plate of food they found sitting abandoned on a cafeteria table.

He tried to explain what it tasted like from his own memories.

Then, as it had for him the first time, the surroundings changed when the memory ran its course and a new lifetime started in the ice canals of Judor IV. Again, they walked among ghosts, observing the magnificence of their forgotten lives, lined by thick walls of glittering ice.

After that, it was the Palisades of the Verom Anjelik. It was at that point when Javik began to quiet. His explanations grew shorter and his distance increased. He had hoped that his asari companion would be too distracted to notice, but of course, he wouldn’t be so fortunate.

“Javik?” She stepped up beside him and reached for his arm, hesitant at first, and turned him to face her. “What’s the matter?”

“You will see.”

As if on cue, a Reaper blared.

From that point on, as if to demonstrate his people’s fleeting lifespan, their surroundings changed far too quickly for Javik to keep up with anymore. A result of the shard transferring from hand to hand at a much more rapid pace. And the more their surroundings changed, the more sickening the images became.

Javik could feel his heart hammering in his chest, heard it in his ears. He knew what was coming and panic began to sink cold and heavy in his stomach. Then it happened; his ship captured, his crew indoctrinated, their names screamed in vain battle after battle, until it ended in the Cronian Nebula with their blood draining from the slits he had carved into their throats. His knife fell to the dirt and an aching sob ripped from his chest, though he couldn’t say if it was from his past or his present self.

A pair of small, strong hands took hold of either side of his head and his vision was suddenly filled by a lovely, blue, freckled face. Black eyes pierced into his and he was vaguely aware of that mental rope being tugged in the other direction, pulling him forward.

Suddenly, a lawn of lilac grass stretched out in all directions. Small, diurnal creatures chirped and buzzed in the afternoon sun, filling the atmosphere with a chorus that made him think of summertime. And a tiny, blue, asari child went running past him and into the waiting arms of assumedly her mother, dressed in a long, yellow gown.

Alien as it was to him, it took him a moment to realize Liara had dragged him into one of her own memories. Into a time set long after the brutality of his own. In the place of dying screams and convulsing husks, children laughed and played beneath a clear, smokeless sky.

It was strange.

At some point, she had released his face -though he could not say when- and she was gripping his hand hard in hers. “Are you all right?”

Instead of answering, he looked on at the giggling child and asked: “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding relieved to hear him speak. “I’m sorry. You were…” She stopped to map out her choice of words, finally settling on: “I have never seen you act that way or heard you…” So that sob was from him. “You needed to get out of there, but I have never done this before, so I did the first thing I could think to do.”

Distantly, Javik nodded, but his attention was on the woman in yellow. There was an undeniable sense of power radiating from the asari, even as she coddled the giggling child. “And your mother?”

Liara followed his gaze. “Yes. That's her.”

“You look just like her,” he observed.

“So I've been told.” Turning back to him, her hand found his again, the motion more natural now, and she said: “I'm ready to leave if you are.”

With a nod, Liara's cabin melted back into his peripheral and their hands, clasped in one another's, materialized into focus. Javik forced his fingers to loosen from hers and his hand fell limply between his knees.

“Earlier you said ‘soldier to soldier.’” Liara's voice drifted in like a breeze and tugged at his attention. Looking up, he found her eyes glistening. “Is that why you passed the shard onto Shepard?”

“She was a soldier that demanded respect. The exemplar of Victory,” he admitted. “It was my hope that she could impart her own memories on it.”

There was a tranquility in Liara's presence, one that soothed his turmoil like a balm. It was tempting to stay and, somehow, he knew that he need only ask. Instead, he stood from his perch and moved toward the door, leaving the shard in her hand.

“Now, I pass it on to you.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Liara had become distant after their look into the Echo Shard. Twice Javik approached her room and considered knocking, but both times he allowed the red ring on her door to dissuade him. It was better that way. For both of them.

It was easier to say goodbye to a soldier when they fell face down.

With just two days left until their arrival at the fueling station, Javik found himself alone in his quarters. Not even the drone saw fit to zoom in and irritate him. With nothing to do and only the weeping sounds of long-gone lives for company, Javik took to his terminal.

Throughout the process of writing, Liara would send little snippets of the book to him. Mostly footnotes and requests for his thoughts, which he neglected to respond, many of them dating back to their time on the _Normandy_. For the next few hours, Javik went through them, opening up unchecked message after unchecked message.

After the second hour, he began to realize a pattern. The tone of the notes and questions changed as the timestamp grew closer to the current day. The messages went from:

“I would appreciate your thoughts on Eden Prime,” to “I have thought for hours on our last meeting. I cannot imagine what this world must be like for you. If you’re willing, I’d love to hear more.”

Javik scrolled to the top and reopened the first email. It was a long-winded one, gushing over the romanticized exploits of his people. It was written at a time before the asari had come to know him. After a moment of hesitation, Javik began to type, answering every question- inane as some of them were. He would eventually round out his list of replies with: ‘I find the title agreeable.’

On the day their little ship docked with the fueling station, Javik took one last look around his quarters. He hadn’t acquired much in the way of belongings, but he had been there long enough for his own signature to become a part of the space. Not that anyone would come along with the ability to feel it once he was gone.

Placing his hand on the door frame, he felt traces of his anger, likely while he was cursing at the drone after it had awakened him. He also heard himself muttering while he slept, deciding to withdraw his hand after a certain primitive's name passed into the open space. Quietly, he removed himself from the room.

It was a short walk to the cockpit; he found Liara sitting in the pilot’s chair. A piece of metal from the fueling station jutted out in front of the viewing port, partially obstructing her view of the stars, though Javik suspected she was not looking at them anyway.

Moving toward the airlock, he tried to think of something to say, but came up with nothing. He tried not to focus on the emotion rolling off the silent asari, though she sat relaxed in her seat despite the signatures radiating from her in waves. She said nothing as he passed the chair and approached the exit. Her silence withheld even as the door cycled open in front of him.

He took one step past the threshold and stopped. Unable to help himself, he chanced a glance behind him and found himself pinned in place by her blue eyes. It would appear that she was waiting for him to say something as well. Quickly, he decided on the first thing that came to mind: “I am leaving.”

“So I see.”

“This has been,” he paused, searching for the correct word. “Enlightening.”

The asari pursed her lips. “It has.”

“I responded to your messages.”

“So I saw.”

Empty silence fell between them, pushing him away while also drawing him in at the same time, like a sweeping tide. “May they prove useful to you.”

“Javik.” He froze, knowing he should turn around and walk out the door now before she could speak. Instead, he turned his whole body toward her. “Are you waiting for me to ask you not to go? Because I have no intention of doing so.”

Whatever he expected her to say, it was not that. Most surprising was the spike of betrayal that lanced through him. With effort, he suppressed the anger, though it still manifested itself through two blinks he was too slow to stop. Saying nothing, he turned back toward the airlock, steeling his resolve.

“But if you ask me-”

“I did not,”he retorted, hating the way she was able to stop him in his tracks by just the sound of her voice alone.

She pressed on, ignoring him. “You’re worth more to your people alive than dead.”

"The dead do not care about worth," he reminded her, keeping his eyes on the target ahead. The exit.

"True,” she conceded. He did not move even as he heard her stand from her chair where she remained, watching him from across the cockpit. He could still keep walking, knowing she wouldn’t follow, yet he remained. “But they care about Legacy when alive. You were Vengeance once, but in writing this book, you're a voice now."

“Our avatars do not work that way.”

"Why not? The protheans are all but forgotten. We only have relics that fuel imagination of who they once were.” She took a step, her footfall auditorily measuring the distance between them. “Those scientists that sabotaged the Citadel- nobody heard their cries."

“Neither did I.”

“No, but you understand them.” Another step. “You understand what drove them to that, their culture, their upbringing, their experiences. You can't give a voice to that if you're dead. And then no one will hear them."

Javik closed his eyes, regretting the decision almost immediately. He could still smell the air from that night, heavy with the scent of copper and fear. "I am tired of seeing their faces, day after day."

"I know.” Her voice carried the wisdom of a century upon it. “And I'm not going to stand here and tell you that they will go away."

"You speak from experience," he observed, tilting his head just far enough to peer back behind his shoulder with his right, monocular eye.

"I do. After Sovereign attacked the Citadel, I sought help for myself. Granted, I didn't stay for as long as I should have when Shepard died. But it helped.” Indecision ruled on her visage, though she did her best to conceal it. Her shoulders were raised and squared even as she wrung her five-fingered hands. “I can get you that same help."

Finally, he turned to her, putting the docking tube to his back. "What is it you want, Liara?"

Though the asari must have heard her name countless times throughout her lifetime, Javik had to wonder if she had ever been so surprised to hear it before. The last time he had used it aloud was… shortly after the fall of her planet.

As expected, she recovered quickly and countered with: "What is it _you_ want, Javik? You have a choice to make- I suspect the first one you’ve had in ages. Walk out that door and go to your death. I won't stop you. Or…” A breath was inhaled through azure lips, a whisper barely audible over the sound of the ship’s humming engines. “Or you could stay."

"With you?" Visions of the park came unbidden to his mind. Sunlight casting shadows on healthy grass. It was like nothing he had ever experienced in his cycle, alien and strange and slightly alarming. He wasn’t sure he knew how to live that kind of life. Looking at the asari before him, older and wiser than her relatively young years would imply, he had his doubts that she did, as well.

Silence stretched out between them, fragile,like a tentative peace treaty. He wasn’t certain if her words meant what he hop- _thought_ they might. His breaths came slowly, though his heart raced in his chest and his eyes stared at her unblinking. How she met him with such calm, he did not know.

Instead of waiting for her answer, he said: "I would like to add a section to this book. Written in my language."

"Oh?"

"My observations while walking among primitives.”Her mouth quirked into a cautiously optimistic smirk. It encouraged him enough to step away from the exit, away from his past, and into the brightly lit ship. Closer to the being that waited within.

It felt as if it was the first time.

“It will take some time. Perhaps I should remain here in the interim.”

  



End file.
